AN- Thanks for reading!

Part of me wanted to stay with Finn and make sure he was okay, but I had a new list in my pocket of things I needed to do before Quinn arrived to our house, and I knew she and Noah might be waiting when I got there. Luckily, when I got to the house, I saw Dad and Daddy's cars in the garage, but Noah's truck wasn't in the driveway. I struggled to open the door with Quinn's box in my arms, but managed and rushed up the stairs.

"Daddy's already up there," Dad called. Good! That meant we were on the same page. I put the box on the floor of the guest room. Daddy was already making the bed with fresh white sheets. I nodded my approval and went to my room.

"Sweetie, where are you going?"

"Decor, Daddy! I think she likes daisies." I did a quick Google for public domain black-and-white pictures of daisies and made 8x10 prints of the ones I thought Quinn would like. At the last moment, I printed a few other, smaller pictures. I whisked the framed images off the guest room's cheery, yellow walls and swapped in the new pictures, then changed the photographs in the bedside frames. Daddy lit a candle that smelled lightly of lemondrops and arranged Quinn's belongings artfully. I had just gotten the last picture on the wall when I heard a noise behind me.

"How did you do this? When?"

It was Quinn. In all the excitement, Daddy and I hadn't heard her arrive. I smiled at the expression on her face as she looked around the room. It had always had yellow walls, which was lucky, since I was pretty sure yellow was Quinn's favorite color. The quilt on the bed was white and without frills, but the accent pillows were the color of lemon sherbet. The black-and-white daisy pictures looked quite nice on the walls. Daddy had arranged a baby blanket and a stuffed animal in the white armchair in the corner. I had placed two framed 4x6 pictures on her bedside table: one from MySpace of Quinn, Brittany and Santana, arm-in-arm in their Cheerios uniforms, and one of the group Glee photograph for the yearbook. (I'd convinced the photographer to give me digital copies so that I could help him select the optimal image for the Thunderclap.)

"Was I right? Are daisies your favorite?"

Quinn nodded, and her eyes looked kind of teary. "It's perfect."

"Don't worry, darling, it was no trouble at all," Daddy added.

Quinn nodded and her face changed, the same way it did just before she asked me to leave after I apologized for telling Finn about the baby.

"Would you like help unpacking, or would you like a moment to settle in?" I asked.

"A moment would be good," she said, staring at the blanket and plush animal. "Where did those come from?"

"Honey, your mom thought you would want them," Daddy said.

"Oh." Her face crumpled, and she couldn't hold back the tears.

"Rachel, Sweetie, why don't you go down and say hello to Noah?" he said. I nodded, and as I turned to go, I saw my daddy put his arms around Quinn and give her a big hug. She was stiff for a second before sobbing into his shoulder. Daddy is really good at that—hugging the sadness right out of a person.

"Jeez, Berry, do I hear Quinn crying? What did you do to her?" Noah was teasing, but he actually sounded a little worried, too, so I gave him a Daddy-style hug.

"Don't worry, Noah. She's okay. Teenage girls must deal with a surge of hormones, and pregnancy creates an even greater surge. Add to that Quinn's recent personal turmoil and the stress of moving, and a good cry is more than justified."

"I was just kidding, Berry. Hell, I feel like crying."

Again, from his voice I could tell that he was only half-joking. Then Dad cleared his throat and I realized I was still squeezing Noah. He had one hand tangled in my hair, and we were rocking back and forth a little, almost like a slow-dance. My face felt unusually warm. I stepped away from him and straightened my shoulders. "Noah, have you met my father, Alexander Berry?"

Dad chuckled for some reason, so I shot him a dirty look. "Rachel, I introduced myself when he and Quinn arrived."

"Oh, of course. I guess we should start supper. Noah, can I get you a snack?"

"Sure, Berry. Whatever you've got."

I provided an apple in case he needed fiber or carbohydrates, and a bowl of nuts in case he needed protein. I also provided him with a glass of water, and got one for myself. My phone beeped as Dad and I were boiling water for pasta on the stove. I saw it was a text from Finn: "Tomatos, fish & smell of eggs make Q sick & she shouldn't drink diet pop eat soft cheese sushi mercury-fish or deli meat. Thought u should know."

"Dad, let's make Fettuccini Alfredo instead of spaghetti. Quinn can't handle tomatoes right now."

"Dude, was that Finn?" Noah asked.

I rolled my eyes at being addressed as "dude."

"Yes," I replied. "He texted me a list of food that makes Quinn nauseated, as well as foods that are unsafe for pregnant women to consume." Noah smiled and shook his head.

"Good old Saint Finn."

I texted back, "Thank you! I researched what foods are safe to eat during pregnancy, but I didn't know about which foods bothered Q. That was very thoughtful, Finn!"

He didn't reply.

When Quinn and Daddy came downstairs, we were still cooking. Quinn eyed the pasta pot on the stove and asked, nervously, "What are we having?"

"Fettuccini Alfredo," Dad announced.

"Oh, good! I was afraid you were going to say spaghetti. I can't handle marinara right now."

"We know," Noah said.

Before he could say anything to tease her, I stated, "Finn alerted me about tomatoes, fish and eggs. Have any other foods or odors been giving you nausea?"

"He did?" Quinn's face looked very hopeful.

"Yes, he did. I didn't even ask him," I said, hoping to reassure her. Quinn gave me a questioning look.

"Rachel, can we talk?"

"Of course!" We walked into the living room, leaving three baffled men in the kitchen.

"What are you doing, Ma—" she stopped herself from saying man-hands. "Rachel? I thought you wanted Finn. Look, if we're going to live together, we need to get this out in the open."

"Agreed. Okay," I paused and took a deep breath. "While you and Finn were together, he and I kissed twice: once before I knew you were pregnant when I was trying to show him what I have to offer, and once when he wanted me to come back to Glee. That time, he wanted me in Glee so he could get a better scholarship to take care of you and Drizzle."

"Oh, no. The name is sticking."

"Sorry."

She sighed. "Don't feel bad. I've started thinking of her as Drizzle, too. It's a terrible name, but I haven't thought of a better one. Actually, I was trying not to name her at all."

I nodded, understanding, and continued. "Anyway, I have since realized that although Finn and I share unusual chemistry, he does not feel for me what he feels for you. He doesn't see me the way I need to be seen."

"That's ironic," Quinn said.

I wondered whether she was going to use "ironic" correctly.

She continued, "I joined New Directions because I thought Finn didn't notice me anymore. After he joined Glee, I'd see him looking at you. That first time you guys sang 'Don't Stop Believing' in the auditorium? I was standing in the back watching, and he's never looked at me like that."

"For a while, it fooled me, too," I told her. "A little of that look may have been for me, but I think he was really in love with singing— doing what he was meant to be doing in the way he was meant to do it." I thought hard for a second, to be sure I was right, then proceeded: "He still loves you, Quinn. You'll get him back."

She raised an eyebrow at me and nodded resolutely. Then she smirked and tilted her head toward the kitchen. "And you have my blessing, Rachel."

Then she strolled out of the room. I composed myself the best I could and returned to my curious dads and Noah.

AN- I write poetry and nonfiction for a living, but I have trouble with fiction. Any feedback on what you like/what I could improve would be very helpful. Thank you!